


Oh Unholy Night

by sidewinder



Series: Games Demons Play [1]
Category: Brimstone
Genre: Christmas, First Kiss, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-19
Updated: 2012-01-19
Packaged: 2017-10-29 19:23:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,010
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/323266
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sidewinder/pseuds/sidewinder
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Christmas Eve in Los Angeles. Ezekiel Stone was feeling decidedly out of place.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Oh Unholy Night

**Author's Note:**

> The following story is written entirely for fun and not for any profit. No attempt is made to supersede or infringe upon the copyrights held by any television or film companies upon which this story is based.

Christmas Eve in Los Angeles. Ezekiel Stone was feeling decidedly out of place.

A half-hour ago, Max had been banging on his door, insisting that he come downstairs for the Christmas party she was throwing. "Don't tell me your spendin' Christmas Eve all by yourself, watchin' them stupid holiday specials on TV!" she'd groaned. "C'mon, meet some of my friends, have some fun...live a little, Stone, will ya?"

There had been no dissuading her, so now he stood in the corner of a too-crowded room, nursing a drink and wondering how long he'd have to stay before it wouldn't be unduly rude to sneak out. Max was sweet, in her weird way, but her friends were just...weird. And much younger than he was, speaking in slang that meant nothing to him, and often pierced in the most disturbing places. Oddly enough his baggy, well-worn attire didn't seem out of place in this crowd. One girl with magenta hair and a ring through her eyebrow asked him if he was into the grunge scene. It sounded like a good cover.

He wondered what had happened to music in the last fifteen years. Max said the DJ was playing something called techno-trance-hop hip...or was that hip hop...? Whatever it was, it was giving him a headache. _And I thought mortals couldn't cause me physical pain,_ he thought, rubbing his temple and wincing. He watched the mass of young people jumping up and down, doing what he assumed had to be dancing, though it looked more like the frenzied aerobics his wife used to torture herself with.

Rosalyn...

Where was she this Christmas Eve? With her family...maybe with a new...

Maybe, but he didn't want to think about that. He only hoped she was having a better evening than he was.

And just when he thought it couldn't get worse...

"Smile, Detective! After all, it's most wonderful time of the year. Where's your holiday cheer?"

 _I should have known,_ he groaned to himself. Stone turned at the familiar voice grating in his ear and couldn't help laughing at what he saw. There was something truly evil about the image of Satan donning a red and white floppy Santa hat. "Don't tell me you like Christmas," Stone remarked.

The devil scowled and yanked off the hat. "Actually I despise it. All this fake jolliness and good will toward men--what a load of crap! But I was hoping to have a little fun ruining _your_ good mood, and how can I do that when you're sulking about instead of ho-ho-hoing it up with the rest of humanity?"

"So sorry to disappoint you," Stone answered, trying to work his way through the crowd toward the door. This seemed like as good an excuse as any to depart--not that his companion seemed ready to leave him alone yet.

"By the way, I never said anything about giving you the holidays off. You should be out hunting tonight, not sucking down eggnog."

Zeke stopped short and turned around, finding himself face to face--nearly body to body--with his grinning tormentor. For a moment, he was caught in the devil's intense stare like a deer dazed by headlights. Then he blinked and took a step back. "I just sent back one of your lost souls this morning. I think I deserve a few hours of rest."

"You've had nine hours and twenty-two minutes. Seems generous enough. The wicked don't dally while you pine for holidays past with your precious Rosalyn."

"Are you finished?"

"With you, Ezekiel? Never."

Stone was really growing uncomfortable, wishing he could find a way through the packed room to the door--and away from his leering companion. There was something entirely too predatory about the way the devil looked at him, something too knowing in his gaze.

Gray eyes glanced upward and Satan's smile widened. "Hmm, well, I suppose there's _one_ good thing about Christmas..."

Zeke was afraid to look, but curiosity got the better of him. And he discovered he was standing right under a sorry-looking sprig of mistletoe, tied to a dead light fixture.

The devil gave him just enough time to stare dumbly at the greenery and think, _He wouldn't,_ before that was exactly what he did.

Stone fought him--for all of about two seconds. Then he found he seemed to lack the willpower to do anything but respond. Eagerly. It wasn't a simple brushing of lips; the devil's touch burned through him to his soul. The sensation was incredible, for a moment the most delicious ecstasy he'd ever known--

\--And then it was over, and he found himself staring blankly into those gray, knowing eyes again, his body shaking...his pants sticky and wet.

The devil licked his lips--slowly--then laughed. "Merry Christmas, Mr. Stone," he said. Then someone bumped into Ezekiel from behind, pulling him out of his dazed state. He blinked and the devil was gone.

"Hey, Stone..." He nearly jumped when he heard Max calling to him. "That looked like one major smacker that guy laid on you!"

"No kidding." Stone shoved his hands into the pockets of his jacket, thankful for the long sweatshirt he was wearing that should cover up his "accident" until he could get back to his room and change.

And shower. Yes, a very long, _long_ shower was definitely in order right now.

"Who is he? Where did he go? Friend of yours?"

"Not exactly."

"So you and he ain't--look Stone, it don't matter to me, ya know?" Max punched him in the arm. "Shoot, you could've told me, that's cool. Makes me feel better 'bout the fact that my womanly charms seem wasted on you."

Stone managed to smile, and then leaned down slightly to kiss Max on the forehead. "Merry Christmas, Max. I think I'd better be going."

"But you just got here!" she protested.

"Yeah, and it's been one Hell of a party," he sighed.

 _Just wait 'till New Year's Eve,_ the devil whispered in his ear, and laughed.

* * *

End


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